Royal Anniversary

Happy Anniversary Will & Kate!

Today is the one year anniversary of the Royal Wedding. For as big of a deal as London made out of the wedding, you'd think they'd do something for the Royal Anniversary - but no. Nodda. All the Londoners care about is the up-coming Diamond Jubilee.

It's mania actually. All the shops are filled with Jubilee bunting, union jack paper plates and napkins, crown-shaped pinatas, special jubilee biscuit tins and sprinkel-covered cakes. It is nutty! I'm not going to here for the Jubilee, and honestly don't care about the Queen Regent reining for 60 years. Kate is much more interesting in my opinion. I think 1 succesful year of marriage is far more difficult thing to accomplish than 60 years of having your life paid for by the people of your country.

I remember last April 29th all too well. I had surgery in the morning, so I woke up beforehand to see the car drive through the rainy streets to Westminster, and suddenly discovered I was obsessed with this real- life fairytale when I sawKate step out in that gorgeous McQueen.

My surgery left me immobile for the entire weekend, and so I laid on the couch in a pain-killer induced comma with my yorkie and watched the Royal Wedding reruns about 18 times.

I never would have thought last year, watching London pass by on television that I would be living here this year - armed with umbrellas.

I wish I had an exciting weekend to tell you about. But thanks to the constant downpour of rain, wind, and frost that is England's weather, I spent the entire weekend either curled up in my flat, in pain in the barrecore studio, or in a grocery store stocking up on health food (and chocolate).

I've been to Barrecore everyday since I signed up, so today was my 11th class.
I'm pretty sure the reception girls think I am loony bins. When I signed up, they said,

"if you really want to see results, we tell you to come 4 times a week"

Ha! How England. Yes, I will come 4 times a week and spend the other 3 at the pub and see my body transform overnight! I am almost half way through my unlimited month, and pretty sure I may be setting some kind of record.

Today before class I went to the new lululemon showroom that opened in Chelsea to take advantage of their free Sunday yoga class. I'm not really a yoggie, but I enjoy a good downward dog every now and again - and I thought it'd be fun to become a part of the lulu community here so I went.

The showroom was packed! Word is spreading fast that they have finally arrived in London, and a free anything in this city is so rare that I think it's added appeal. I ended up having to take the only free mat, which was right in the front of the room instead of the back corner that I would have preferred. I was so in my zen that I didn't realize a photographer was snapping shots of us all in action - but I found these on the Lulu Facebook page afterwards - and look who is front and center rocking her plank!

plank = pain

downward dog - that's me in the blue!

These pictures were taken in the beginning of class, shortly before the fire alarm went off for no reason, and we all had to evacuate the building! It was so sad. My friend and I waited outside with all the other disappointed yoggies while the manager tried to get the fire department to come turn off the alarm, but after 10 minutes with no help in sight, we took off to grab some lunch before Barrecore. So, next week - we will return!

We munched on healthy tartines at the Chelsea Quarter Cafe while we talked and prepared ourselves for pain we were about to endure. We also spent some time drooling over the red velvet cupcakes piled with a mountain of cream cheese frosting, and the pain au chocolat oozing chocolat everywhere - but resisted and walked up to the studio instead for class.

I think I'm addicted to Barrecore because it's like being back in New York.

I walk through the doors, and am surrounded by Americans - mostly New York ex-pats I've realized - who have the same pink nikes and wunder under crops on as me. I overhear them complaining about the lack of wheatgrass shots and fro yo and I just feel - at home.

When I got out of Barrecore - I saw the most amazing sight I've seen all month.....

THE SUN!

It was actually shining. It only lasted about 12 minutes - but it happened.

I never understood the meaning of April Showers until now. This past month has been nothing but grey skies and drizzle, but here's hoping that April Showers really do bring May flowers, and a little bit of sunshine.

I'd like to show off my toned Barrecore legs in some short shorts!

London Loves Zac

I am now 23 years old. I have a job. I pay my own bills. I guess this makes me an adult.

But I believe there are many things that keep me very far away from truly owning this awful title. The largest, perhaps, is my complete obsession with teen-hearthrob Zac Efron.

I'm really not into celebrities. I've passed them countless times on the street in New York and eventually got to point where I stopped caring. They are just people. Only they get to wear whatever they want and live in dream homes, so I kind of hate them to be honest.

But everyone has that one celebrity, and mine is Zac Efron. Ever since I saw High School Musical, I have kind of believed we could be soul mates if we met. Famous people fall in love with normal people all the time. They meet somewhere, and the rest is history. Hugh Jackman, Christian Bale, Matt Damon - all normal wives. Look at Kate Middleton for goodness sakes! I'm just saying - it can happen.

So tonight as I was booking it up Kings Road to make it to my Barrecore class, I noticed quite an extravaganza happening outside Bluebird and wondered what it was all for. Music, tents, gates, and then I saw the hoards of teenage girls standing in the rain with soggy "London Loves Zac" posters.

I instantly got chills. Zac... Efron? In London? On my street!?!

I wanted to go investigate this further, but there were guards everywhere and I was late for class, so I had to keep moving. As I continued up the road, I passed the Chelsea Curzon Theatre with "The Lucky One Premier Tonight" plastered on the outside.

A quick google search told me the premier was at 8:15. My class was out at 7:30, so I had just enough time to run back and see Zac after Barrecore! VICTORY!!

When I got to class I gushed the news to my American pal, "ZAC EFRON IS DOWN THE STREET!!" Turns out, she is not a HSM fan. But the trainer overheard me and started to laugh,

"Would now be a good time to tell you I taught him dance?"


Long story short, my Barrecore teacher taught my soul mate some moves when he was in London filming "Me and Oscar Wilde" with Claire Danes. And - she said he is just as dreamy and cool in real life as he seems. That sealed the deal for me; I was going to see Zac Efron.

Throughout class, when the pain was too great to bare and my hips fell out of alignment, Jenny came to fix me and whispered, "just think of Zac." And I did.

1 hour later I rushed down Kings Rd and joined the queue outside the cinema, feeling slightly ridiculous being 23 amongst the cluster of tweens.
It was freezing and raining, par for the course for London. Being alone, it was easy for me to slip and sneak my way to the front of the group right behind the barricade closest to the doors. I soon joined the front row, the true die-hard fans, and discovered it was an interesting crowd.

To my left, a man aged at least 60 years. I assumed he was some girl's dad or accidentally had ended up in this line, until I realized he was, in fact, alone - and was holding the DVD case for Charlie St. Cloud, an old magazine with Z.E. on the cover, and a sharpee. Yikes!

To my right, 3 polish women, aged approx 25, 40, and 70. Through their thick accents I discovered they came from Poland FOR THIS! They didn't have tickets to the premier, they just wanted to see Zac Efron and were begging the guard to let them in the theatre. Double yikes!

I suddenly felt extremely normal, and hopeful that if Zac did approach the crowd, he would surely go for me before Mr. and Mrs. loony bins next to me. Unfortunately, coming straight from the gym - I was in my trainers and a sweaty, gross, mess. But I don't believe anything can stop true love...

30 freezing cold minutes later, after watching annoying ticket-holding people saunter in, and listening to screams everytime someone saw a man that even vaguely resembled Zac Efron, a silver Mercedes pulled up, and out walked my dream man.

The screams were deafening, people were jumping and pulling and shoving, but timed seemed to stop still for me during the 60 second timeframe that he stepped out in his navy 3 piece suit, and standing no more than 10 feet from me, turned to the side and flashed the most world's most handsome smile.

And then, he was gone. It was magical.

I was slightly disappointed he didn't stop to greet (and by greet I mean kiss) his fans (and by fans I mean me), but since it was freezing and raining - I can't blame him for not wanting to spend time outside. Damn this city and it's terrible weather! London's insane April showers are responsible for me not getting to meet him.... Do I sound loony bins yet?

Anyway, in my trance-like state, I was able to snap this photo.

It's blurry, and doesn't do his attractiveness justice. But it's mine. It's my photo of Zac Efron that I took while looking at him.

I realize that I sound completely insane and childish right now - but I really don't care.
If 3 middle aged women honestly flew from Poland to see him, then I am the poster-child of normality and maturity.

I found this online of him on the official red carpet outside Bluebird if you want to properly marvel at his handsomeness....
Looking good, loverboy.

So I am, obviously, going to go see the movie tomorrow. In the Curzon. And imagine that the seat I am sitting in is the one he sat in. And further imagine that he spent the entire movie thinking, "I wonder if that blonde girl in the trainers that I smiled at could possibly be my soulmate."

Dark Chocolate Dreams

This is the first weekend I've spent in London since March 2nd! 

In the last 30 days I've been in 5 countries. Holy scones and jam!

So just where have I been? Here's a quick re-cap. 

March 10-11th bonding with British friends in Basingstoke 

March 17-18th visiting my long lost love in New York City 

March 24-25th munching on brezen in Munich, and tortes in Salzburg

March 30-31st seeing sheep and having tea in the Cotswald

April 7-8th  tip-toeing through the tulips in Amsterdam

April 14-15th biking through the canals in Copenhagen

It was very strange not packing a suitcase Friday night. I almost felt like I should just bring my carry-on along with me and tote it around...

I had a very low-key weekend, since the past 2 months have been a bit of whirlwind. 

Friday night I went out with my co-worker and her boyfriend for haute Indian at the Cinnamon Club. 

We sat in bar to partake in the special "Beer and Spice Pairings" Menu. Good thing I now like beer!

There were 6 pairings on the menu, so we each got two over the course of 2 hours had an Indian tapas feast. 

I started with the Bengali style crab and cod cakes with kasundi mustard, paired with Aspalls Cider - and then moved onto the Tandoori paneer tikka with red onion and pepper, paired with Sierra Nevada Pale Ale. 

Every bite and sip was delicious! And I felt guiltless, since I had woken up at 6am to go to my Barrecorre class. I've gone everyday since I joined  - and my body is in an all-out ache. I hurt in places I didn't know one could hurt, and not sure one should hurt. 

After Barrecorre Saturday afternoon, I wandered up to Duke of York Square to grab lunch in the fresh market that pops up every Saturday. There is this woman who has a stall where she sells her homemade loaves, and cuts up giant samples  - and she is more or less my main for going to this market. 

Apple, plum, and oat bread; iced coffee cake bread, coconut bread, mango bread, banana bread...

The most amazing loaves I have ever tasted. The first time I tasted a sample, I bought a half loaf and ate the whole thing. Since that day of no control, I have not let myself buy any again because I know how it will end. But I always stop by for some nicely portion-controlled samples. 

I spent the rest of the day wandering around the Natural History Museum and in and out of shops on Kensington High Street. 

The sight of the Whole Foods on the corner always makes me sentimental, and so I went in to roam the aisles and pretend I was in New York, gathering some groceries to make dinner in Josh's teany kitchen. 

I ended the day with nearly two hours of fondly examining the packing on american foods, like chicken salad and pita chips in Whole Foods- but because of the price tag,  I left with only one thing. 

The one thing a girl can't live without. 

Hardcore Barrecore

I have always been a big believer of the "when in Rome" mind-set.

I like to be in a place and become a creature of it. This not only applies to eating and drinking, but customs, mores, and general ways of life - as different as they may be. I like to face the confusion, embrace the inconvenience, and don't let my American ways get the best of me.

So when in Rome, do as the Romans do. Eat tons of pasta and be late to everything and have no shame in living with your parents until you are 30 years old.

When in Paris, do as the Parisians do. Walk the cute streets with an armful of baguettes, and drink copious amounts of wine, and brag to everyone about the superiority of all things French.

But when in London, I don't want to do what the Londoners do.

At least not in the case of fitness regime, which would be -

"join up with a gym, never turn up for the classes and head to the pub with your mates instead!"

I'm a gymaholic. And while I do find European ways of life to be far superior to ours in most ways - I need a decent Zumba class and a local Lululemon store to survive! I joined a gym here, but it's pretty much crap, and Body Attack isn't doing anything for me anymore.

So today my new American-pal told me she'd heard about a boutique fitness studio in Chelsea doing Barre-Method based classes When she told me it was called Barrecore, I liked it already. I did some research and found out it was just started by 2 Americans, one who came from Physique 57 and other from Tracy Anderson.... sold! I went straight from work to the 7:30 class.

It was like coming home! With lulu-clad Americans on my left and right, I felt so good to be surrounded my other serious-minded workoutters that I hardly minded the horrible pain that comes from doing 10 minutes of modified plies in a releve, squeezing a ball between your knees.

I'm typically more of a cardio-centric fitness girl. Zumba, Kangoo, Cardio Jam, Rebounding - anything that gets my heart-rate going. But I figured my body could use a shock of something completely different after I fed it nothing but fat and skipped the gym for the past month. Turns out, I was right. A mere 4 hours after the class, I'm already sore in places I didn't know one could be sore. Barrecore is hardcore. It's like a little piece of New York in London - and I love it.

My flatmates find it utterly mad that I go to the gym as often as I do. Actually, they find it utterly mad that I belong to a gym at all. Every time I come down in my trainers, they say - "off to the gym again, are you?!"

Today I explained I wasn't heading to my gym, but to a Barrecore class.

"Have you heard of it - Barrecore," I asked?

Since the studio is new to the area and getting a lot of buzz I thought maybe she would know, but I watched the strangest look develop on her face, as she said "Oh yeah, I think I've heard of it."

Turns out, she thought I was saying parkour.

All I could think of was this opening scene from Season 6 of The Office, when Andy, Dwight, and Michael do parkour. I almost didn't correct her mistake, because it was just too damn funny to think of my flatmates believing I do this....

The Office: Parkour! from bidji on Vimeo.

So now that all my visitors have visited, my trips I'd planned are taken, and my month-long eating extravaganza is over, I am devoting myself hardcore to Barrecore for the next month, and hoping it helps me feel just a little closer to home.

So when in London, I will go for afternoon tea, and say ridiculous things like "blimey", and make my undying allegiance to the Queen known - but when it comes to fitness, I'm totally fine with adjusting my mind-set to, when in London, do as the New Yorkers do.

Culinary Highlights

I think it's safe to say I have gained 10+ pounds this past month. I had my sister in town, followed by my parents for the past 4 weeks, which translates to several course meals and daily cocktail hour for a month-straight in Munich, Salzburg, London, and Amsterdam.

My sister and I headed to Bavaria for a weekend of bikes, brezen, and beers, and spent one day in Salzburg indulging in Austrian sweets! The next weekend my parents arrived and we explored the picturesque Cotswald Villages, and Stratford Upon Avon bellys that very much resembled the sheep grazing about everywhere. Round, rounder, and rounder yet. We spent that week fine dining our way around London, and headed to Holland this past weekend to get in touch with our Dutch roots by eating pannekoen, stroop wafels, and thousands of Dutch-chocolate Easter eggs.

Most people use the spring season to diet and exercise to that they can look cute in their Daisy Dukes once the sunshine hits. Instead, I have spent the spring fattening myself up like the farmer fattens his pigs before they are turned into bacon bits. The veggies I've had have all been au gratin, and the fruits all baked below a crumble a la mode. Yikes...

But I don't think there is any time in London that one can ever wear a bikini anywhere, so no worries. I'm in the clear until I head home for Holiday in June. Plenty of time for a juice fast.

When I eat something special out, I take pictures of my food. Most people think this is really strange - but actually it is brilliant, because when I realize I've gone up 3 sizes - I can look back at everything I've eaten and remember how I got here, and how very worth it it all was.

So here is my droolworthy documentation of the reason I currently have a belly fully of jelly..

knickerbocker glory, The Fountain at Fortnum & Masons

scone, clotted cream, and jam, The Cotswald

brezen and beir, Hofbrauhaus Munich

cream puff, Demel Salzburg

German Pancake with blueberries and ice cream, Augustiner Brau Munich

mac n' cheese, Tom's Kitchen London

pear and chocolate panneokeon, Pancake Bakery Amsterdam

strawberry and cream soufflé, Bob Bob Richard London

sticky toffee pudding, Bumpkin London

lox and cream baguette, Printers and Stationers London

Chocolate PB Smores, Ottolenghi London

Dumpflnudel, Cafe Rischart Munich

Quarkballen, Munich

I should also have a photo of our last afternoon tea at Sketch in Mayfair. But we were so starving by the time we finally got our three-tier tray we devoured everything before we could.

I wish I did have a photo, because it was definitely one of my highlights.

I've been having tea since I was a little girl. My mom used to call my school in the morning saying I was ill, and take me out for afternoon tea and shopping instead. This is the same mom who tried to dissuade me when at 16 I wanted to apply for a job, and told me,

"if you get a job you're not going to have time to do anything fun that you want to do."

Talk about words of wisdom!!

It's no wonder that I now hate having a 9-5 job and simply don't understand why my vacation/sick days are limited.

Here is my restaurant wrap-up manifesto for your reference.

I ever-so highly recommend all of these delicious places! Just be prepared to loosen a belt a few knotches before you go...

Munich

Cafe Rischart

Augustiner Brau

Chinese Bier Garden in the English Garden

Hofbrauhaus

Lowenbrau Haus

SeaHaus in the English Garden

London

Tom's Kitchen

Fuel

The Jam Tree

The Icecreamist

The Harwood Arms

Bumpkin

Ottolenghi

Le Poule Au Pot

Made in Italy

The Delaunay

Printers and Stationers

Bluebird

Muriel's Kitchen

The Wolsely

Fortnum and Masons: The Fountain

Bob Bob Richard

Sketch

American Bar at the Savoy Hotel

Connaught Bar in the Connaught Hotel

Amsterdam

The Pancake Bakery

Ponte Arcari

Hoofdstad Brasserie

Freddy's Bar at Hotel de l'Europe

Amstel Bar in the Intercontinental Amsterdam

Bon appetite!